Drabbles, Alternate Scenes, Etc
by PinkPantherLady
Summary: This is a collection of some drabbles and other little short bits that wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote them down. Most (but not all) of these drabbles have a HarryHermione shippy leaning, so if that's your thing, here you are!
1. Undeniable

**Author's Note: This is a short little drabble that popped into my head, and wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it down. Most people seem to dislike Cho very much, and I always wondered what _she_ thought of her relationship with Harry, and that's what this drabble is about. The next few 'chapters' will be other drabbles about different things that pop into my head, like this one, and need to be written.**

**Undeniable**

It was too soon, I realize that now. Cedric was, and still is in most ways, still too close to my heart. I couldn't stop thinking about him, and that should have told me right there that getting into any type of relationship with anyone would work out badly. Not only did I manage to royally screw up a potentially lasting relationship, but I screwed it up with The Boy Who Lived!

I didn't 'go after' Harry on purpose, but the fact that he had seen _my_ Cedric murdered, and was the last person to talk to him before he died; I should have known that it would turn out to be a conflict of interest.

I was too emotionally attached to Cedric still to properly convey my feelings for Harry, which were real. In fact, I was to emotionally attached to Cedric to try and have a relationship with anyone, let alone the last person who saw him alive.

I've long wondered; was I unconsciously using Harry Potter to find out what happened to Cedric in the last minutes of his life? I know I certainly didn't set out to do that, but in the end, it appears that way to both him and his friends.

Not to mention, he's got enough going on in his own life as it is, I shouldn't have added to all that emotional baggage. He's gotta be stressed out with the whole, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named thing. But of course, it wasn't completely those factors. There were other things involved that caused the ruin of our relationship. I'm certainly not blind to my surroundings.

Hermione Granger, damn her, I should have started watching her sooner than I did. By the time it dawned on me, it was too late. The damage was done, and Harry would never trust me again, let alone be attracted to me. I'm not completely stupid, like some people think.

They see a pretty face, and assume there's nothing going on inside that pretty little head. I was sorted into Ravenclaw for a reason, and I use people's assumptions about me to my advantage, usually. Unfortunately, Granger used her knowledge about things more quickly than I did, which angers me the most. Of course, she knew Harry better than I did, which gave her unfair advantage over me anyway.

Rita Skeeter's claims had to have been based on something she saw between those two. That's what journalists are supposed to do, they have to know people. They have to notice the details about them, their body language, every little detail counts. She noticed something there, and simply stretched the truth about it: then. That was then, though. Now things are different. They've had time to think on each other, wonder about each other.

She was too clingy to him, very mothering. I assumed that would mean she couldn't be a threat, why would he like someone who treats him like a little boy who needs a mum? How wrong I was. He always talked about how smart she was, and I knew he secretly, if unconsciously, compared her to me.

As the year went on, little things started to bug me about it. Then the fiasco with the date in Hogsmeade made everything undeniable. Why would he leave during a date with a girl that, according to most people I know, he'd had a crush on for a year? I'd had a sneaking suspicion that he had a crush on me, but I didn't know for sure until he asked me to the Yule Ball, when I was a 5th year.

It didn't make sense to me. If he really liked me, and wanted to pursue a relationship, he wouldn't have told me he needed to meet Granger in Three Broomsticks in the middle of the date! I don't care how important that meeting was, it could have always been rescheduled in my opinion. Turns out it was to give an interview: and yes it was a courageous thing he did in giving that interview.

But why did it have to be at that particular time? Certainly a reporter would be so eager to interview The Boy Who Lived, that if he asked for a slight postponement of the appointment, the reporter would have been only to happy to let him have it? It doesn't add up, unless you factor in Granger. Harry is completely blind to it, but she sodesperately likes him that it isn't even funny. She's always studying him, watching his reactions and gauging his responses. Normal friends don't pay that much attention to each other, just look at Ron Weasley.

_He_ doesn't study Harry so avidly, which convinced me that it isn't just because she's 'worried' about him and wants to make sure he's okay. Obviously, Ron cares about Harry's well being also, though he doesn't do the things that Hermione does. I don't know if the feelings are completely one sided, but I have a sneaking suspicion that Harry is starting to explore his feelings about Hermione.

Everything is completely clear to me now. Granger is smarter than I thought, she planned the whole thing. She knew of Harry's inexperience with relationships, and used that to her advantage when asking a favor of him. Harry asked me if he could go visit his best friend, who happens to be a girl, during our date. If Hermione wanted us to work out, she would have NEVER done that to him; put him in that kind of position. She carefully orchestrated the downfall of our relationship, and the other factors were already in place. Nice and neat, like always, wasn't it, little miss Granger?

All I know is, whomever Harry Potter dates in the future needs to be prepared for high expectations. Will she ever measure up to Hermione Granger?


	2. Fake Love

**Author's Note: This is, yes, another drabble. It's from Ginny's point of view and it's her thoughts on her relationship and former feelings for Harry. Enjoy!**

**Fake Love**

Harry Potter had consumed my thoughts for most of my teen years. It was idle, hero worship, though I would have never admitted it then. I was too blinded by his fame, the title he held among the people of our world. I was what some people call; a 'fan girl' which I know is the reason why he seemed shy of me during those first several years.

He didn't get the name intentionally, yet people place him on a pedestal for something he hardly remembers, let alone did on purpose. He was only a tiny baby at the time, and I worshiped him for it! I'm ashamed of myself, now that I look back, when I think about my daydreams of him coming to carry me off so we could live 'happily ever after.' The childish dreams of a young teenage girl; that's all it was. An unrealistic fantasy.

It took me four long years to figure out what wasn't working. Harry didn't need a hero worshiper; he had enough of those as it was. He needed someone he could trust, someone he could talk to, someone to love him unconditionally for who he was, not some mask given to him by the newspapers or his muggle relatives. Someone he already had, and that person wasn't me.

The thing is, after discovering all of this, the feelings that I thought had been there, weren't anymore. I was physically attracted to Harry, yes that was true. The idea of him being a hero was attractive as well, but it wasn't anything deep and genuine. Just your typical first teenage crush; nothing of substance. Nothing to lose, really, if it wasn't there for real in the first place.

Ironically, Ron of all people thinks now I would make a great girlfriend for Harry. I find this completely hilarious, considering that he's had absolutely NO experience with girls and relationships. Hell, I've had more experience than ickle Ronniekins!

Hopefully Ron doesn't try any thing in the matchmaking department, because I can see all his little plots ending in wild disasters just while thinking on it. Scary, really. Besides, I think Dean wouldn't like that too much. I've already warned him about my brothers, and he's well up to the challenge. Unlike Michael Corner, who went off to comfort Cho; he turned tail and ran at the slightest hint of violence from Fred and George. I don't need a wimp for a boyfriend that's for sure. What is it with Cho and younger guys anyway?

Harry has gone through so much; and I wasn't there to help him through most of it, and in turn, that also added to the discovery that I would never be close to him in 'that way.' Not that I mind anymore, I wouldn't want to be Harry Potter's girlfriend, because personally, it's to damned stressful. Not to mention the constant badgering by the press! I wouldn't know how to handle all of that, I've never been through anything like it myself. The Chamber of Secrets was enough attention to last me a lifetime, so thanks, but no thanks on that note.

Of course, the advantage of realizing the childishness of my crush was what I needed. Harry has now become a friend, and I put those stupid little fantasies behind me. He's like yet another brother in the Weasley family, and you know what? I'm beginning to feel a little overrun by boys in this family. Good thing I have Hermione to back me up when I'm feeling overloaded with testosterone.


	3. Hermione's Boggart

**Author's Note: This is sort of like a drabble, but at the same time it's also like an alternate scene, or something of that nature. I think the title is self explanatory, so I don't think I need to make this note any longer. Enojy, and if you feel the need, tell me what you think! (Thanks to Rocky235 for reviewing!)**

**Hermione's Boggart**

_It's just a boggart, Granger, you can do it. It won't be like last time, you've changed since then. You're more mature. You can handle it,_ I thought to myself.

Although, why would our sixth year defense teacher want us to do something we had done already in our third year? Actually, the explanation she gave was a realistic one. Simple, but realistic.

"The last time you encountered a boggart, for most of you, was your third year of schooling. Now, I don't think you need me to inform you that a lot has happened since then, and you've changed dramatically. Your fears, in turn, have changed as well, and it's always best to know what you are most afraid of because, if given the chance, it will be used against you. Especially if you don't think you're sure about what you're most afraid of."

So we were assigned to go into a room that she had sectioned off, by ourselves, and fight our boggart. No problem, until I remembered my boggart from third year, and how Ron had made fun of me for it. Well, not again.

"Alohomora!" I unlocked the cabinet that the boggart had been trapped in; wondering what would be coming out of it. The door opened slowly, and nothing appeared immediately. Confused, I lowered my wand, looking around the room for the boggart, but not seeing a thing.

_Had this ever happened to someone before, _I wondered to myself. However, upon turning around I shrieked in horror at what lay before me. I couldn't stop the tears, because even though it was just a boggart, my fears could easily come true.

Harry's dead body lay sprawled in front of me, in a pool of blood. Struggling to focus, I pointed my wand at it, but I couldn't pull my gaze away from Harry's eyes. They were dull, lifeless, not the brilliant glittering green eyes I was so used to. That shook me to the core, and my wand slipped from my hand.

"No, no, no! It's not real, it's not real!" I sat with a thump on the floor and stared at the eyes that haunted me so. "Harry, you're not dead! This isn't REAL!" I covered my face; I didn't want to see that face.

Was this the horror Harry had felt when he'd seen Cedric Diggory's dead body? No wonder he had nightmares about it! Uncontrollable shaking took over me, and I uncovered my face and tried to find my wand.

I felt around on the ground for it, and ended up knocking it farther out of reach, closer to the dead Harry/ boggart. I couldn't do this, the teacher had told us, if we couldn't handle it by ourselves, don't be ashamed, and to call for help. She and several other students would come in and confuse it with the many things it would want to turn into.

"Help!" I called out desperately ashamed of myself, but at the same time wanting to get away from that body, knowing that it could happen, and that my fears weren't based on some paranoid delusion.

I continued crying when I heard the door open and several footsteps could be heard entering the room. I heard two sets of them stop abruptly, and I glanced up to see our teacher, along with Harry and Ron, their wands ready to help.

They were both frozen, staring at Harry's dead body in the steadily growing pool of blood. As soon as I glanced back at it, I started shaking again and cried harder. Harry wasn't going to die, he was going to live! He's a fighter, he would never give up to Voldemort!

"Accio wand!" I exclaimed, wondering why I hadn't thought of it before, and figuring I had been to frightened to think of it. My wand landed in my lap, and I looked up at Ron and Harry. Ron was staring at the boggart, his face horribly pale and his mouth opening and closing silently, like he was a fish out of water.

Harry, strangely enough, didn't seem to be phased by it that much, and our teacher walked forward to move it back into the cabinet. I didn't see what it changed into when she got near, but she quickly got it back into the cabinet without trouble, and came over to me.

"Hermione, I know you must feel horrible with yourself, but don't be. Some of the most experienced wizards and witches of our age can't bear to even consider fighting a boggart, much less see what their boggart is." She pulled me up and I wiped my face off before turning to Harry and Ron.

Ron gave me a strange look, and frowned at me before turning away stiffly without a word. I gazed at Harry, who tried to give me a comforting smile without success. Somehow, I knew that this boggart incident held more weight with Ron and this was going to change a dynamic within our friendship. It was only just a matter of when.


	4. Forgivable

**Author's Note: This is a drabble on Harry's feelings about using the Cruciatus Curse on Bellatrix Lestrange in the Department of Mysteries at the end of Order of the Phoenix. **

**Forgivable**

They have no reason to suspect me of doing anything of the sort, so it's not like they'll come charging into my room on Privet drive to confiscate my wand and throw me in Azkaban. Besides, like they care what I do to Bellatrix Lestrange. It would be quite funny to see the looks on my relatives' faces, though.

She's done a whole lot worse than I have, not to mention the fact she's a bit touched in the head. I mean, after all those years with dementors? Who wouldn't be? Even though I'm reluctant to, Sirius could easily be grouped in with that generalization. He was a bit touched in the head, though not nearly as bad as his cousin.

Hermione probably put it best; he thought I was James, and as much as I love Sirius, I'm beginning to agree with her. It becomes painfully obvious when that person is gone, which to me seems to defeat the purpose of having them around. Wouldn't it have been better if I hadn't been in denial about it then, and confronted him? It may not have helped anything, but all the 'what ifs' won't bring him back.

But after all, she had to have had something wrong with her before Azkaban to voluntarily submit herself to Voldemort. I find it ironic in a way; she's so self righteous about her 'power' over me, and what she thinks on things. She likes to tease and 'play' with her victim's heads when she's dueling or torturing them. Yet, that's what Voldemort does to her, and all his supporters.

He treats them like they treat their own victims, only they willingly participate in such treatment. That's the part I don't understand, but I have come to realize something important about her. She enjoys the pain of the Cruciatus curse. It's not a punishment for her any longer, because she's gone through it so much. To her, it's almost a sign of respect to be able to endure such a pain. What do they call it? Desensitization.

Which is why I'm comfortable saying that it wasn't so unforgivable in putting that curse on her. After all, how could it be when she herself doesn't mind having it placed on her? So, if something like the Cruciatus curse doesn't hurt her, then what would? I'm still thinking on that issue.

So, was Tom Riddle right? There is no good and evil, only power and those to weak to seek it. I don't believe that entirely, but the line between forgivable and unforgivable has started to get a little gray. Does the fact I perform this curse on someone of this nature 'excuse' me from what I did?

Not necessarily, but I'm not the judge of that. Not entirely sure who is the judge, or even if there is one. The fact that the distinction between them has started to blur would have scared me several years ago, I'm certain of that. It doesn't scare me so much now. Maybe it's to soon after Sirius' death try and make sense of my emotions, but it's no use in trying to push them aside to deal with them later. They'll only come back harder later on. It's about time I decided to pull my head out of my ass and do something.

Although…Sirius would be disappointed if he knew I had sunk to the level of a death eater and performed an unforgivable. At least, that's how he would see it. Perhaps. Would he mind if he knew, or does he know already? I could dwell on that subject to no end, and continue going around in the proverbial circle for ages upon ages. So I won't.

I'm not stupid enough to entirely believe there won't be repercussions that will come back to haunt me, though, oh no. It will come eventually, whether it be in my worst nightmares or from Bellatrix herself.

I do know one thing, I'm not sorry for what I did, nor am I glad. It taught me that I need to prepare for this war. It's all on my shoulders now, and I'm going to meet that challenge head on. The prophecy only confirms what had been the dark shadow waiting in the back of my mind ever since the end of my first year at Hogwarts. They have no idea what they're messing with, and they will reckon the day they decided to screw with Harry Potter.


	5. Bottom of the Pile

**Author's Note: A drabble on Ron's feelings about being the youngest Weasley boy, and what that means to him. **

**Bottom of the Pile**

It's already been done before. All of it, so what does it matter what I do? Charlie was the Quidditch player, Bill was the prefect and head boy, as well as that rat Percy. I managed to get prefect by some miracle, and I'm on the quidditch team. Does that mean I'll measure up to my brother's accomplishments?

I'm not brainy, like Percy or Hermione. Heck, Charlie wasn't really considered a brain, but his grades were quite good as well. Bill was Head Boy, so it didn't really matter about his grades, though they weren't horrible at all. Mine are completely average. Fred and George may not know it, but they are a blessing.

I don't have two more brothers' reputations to live up too, in my mothers eyes, thanks to them. Of course, it's expected of me anyway. Whether I want to or not, after all the greatness they've achieved, and the 'disappointment' of Fred and George's grades, not to mention dramatic exit from school last year, it all adds up eventually.

Fred and George made their impact in a different way than all the others. I suppose in a way, they were more the 'socialites' of the family. So in way, it's like living up to the expectations in a different way. Not only should I be getting great grades, be quidditch captain, and head boy, I've got to be popular while I do it! What a joke!

How much you wanna bet that Harry's gonna be quidditch captain? I mean, he is the youngest player in a century, McGonagall would be nuts not to give him the job. At least, that's what I think.

Anyway, if you think about it, Ginny's got the advantage, because not only is she the youngest, she's also the only girl in the family. My parents expect different things from her, but that doesn't seem to matter either, because she's really great at quidditch. So everyone in my family has some major talent, and accomplishment that they can claim, but what about me?

It's quite easy to get lost in the shuffle, and it doesn't help when you're two best friends happen to be the smartest witch in school and The Boy Who Lived. Not that I think of them that way, really. It's just, the titles they've been given get much more attention than usual. I don't even have a title really. All I'm good at is chess, and that doesn't help anything.

Sad really, I'm at the bottom of the pile. The reject. Who would have thought, Ron Weasley, wallowing in self-pity? Yeah well, Hermione may think I have the emotional range of a teaspoon and she can go on thinking that if she wants too. I don't mind, because it obviously makes her feel better to put people into nice, neat little categories just like her homework and her books. See? I notice more than she realizes.

But how would being good at chess help in the war? Not much really. War isn't supposed to be predictable, is it? People don't move like chess pieces, so I don't really have much importance in the grand scheme of things. At least, that's the conclusion that I come to whenever I think about this. I suppose the only thing that I can claim is that I'm the first ever best friend of Harry Potter, which that's not an accomplishment really.

It wasn't something I tried to do, it just happened, and although his fame gets in the way of things sometimes, I'm glad that I know Harry. He's a great guy, and I know that he's the one to get rid if You-Know-Who. It's an awful lot to expect from him, but I think ever since the day he lived as a baby, people have expected it of him. So maybe I shouldn't be complaining, because my problems are nothing compared to what he's going through. Doesn't mean I'll listen to my own advice though.


	6. Ugly Duckling

**Author's Note: Okay this is yet another drabble. Bored yet? Hope not, but anyway, this is from Neville's point of view on the DA, his new confidence, and the upcoming school year. **

**Ugly Duckling**

I have a lot to be thankful for, and the person I should probably be thanking would be Harry Potter. We've never been that close, really, even though we've shared a dorm for the past five years. He mostly hangs around with Ron, and I slow things up a bit.

Well, at least, I used to slow things up a bit. Now thanks to the Defense Association (or Dumbledore's Army, I call it by both names) that won't be happening anymore. All I needed was someone to believe in me, and teach me what needed to be done.

Ever since I…lost…my parents to the Cruciatus curse, I've lived in fear. What if she comes back to finish me off? Not that she'd have much fun, because I wouldn't have been much of a match against her. I may be in Gryffindor, but I certainly didn't used to act like one.

My problem, at least when I think about it now, was my Gran. I mean, I love her and everything, she's my family. It's just, she wanted me to be her son. I'm not Frank Longbottom, and that's probably why Harry was the appropriate one to teach me confidence.

He knows what it's like to be judged based on your parents and their behavior and accomplishments. People liked to compare him to his own father, just like me. I think now, though, my Gran realizes that I am not her son. I'm my own person, and the fact that I snapped my dad's wand in the Department of Mysteries not long ago helped things along.

I needed a new beginning, and getting my own wand is probably one of the best places to start that. Sure, Gran was flaming mad at me when she found out, but then she discovered how I had helped Harry out in the Ministry, and how I dueled a Death Eater. Considering I only escaped with a broken nose, when you think about what happened to Ron…I'd say that's quite an accomplishment compared to I would have done if this had happened in my fourth year.

Next year, is going to be very different. Harry wants to continue with the DA, and I plan on helping him with it as much as I can. I think in time, Harry and I could become great friends.

Heck, there may even be a girl in my future, though I might be pushing it a bit. Besides, the girl I've been interested in is already starting to get involved with one of my dorm mates. I don't have _that_ much confidence quite yet, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to work on it.

All I know is, I'm ready to be the Gryffindor that I was meant to be, no more meek and shy Neville who always gets caught in the trick step, forgets the password, is scared of Snape, and trips over any little thing in his path. Malfoy is going to get a taste of his own medicine, and he'll be getting his comeuppance soon enough.

You know, it's funny in a way. I've always thought of myself much like that little duck in the muggle children's nursing rhyme. The Ugly Duckling, as I recall the name. Only, I always wondered when it would be _my_ turn to become that great person at the end, and I think now my time has finally come. It was my favorite story as a little kid, and now I know why.


	7. The Last Link

**Author's Note: Hey again. Yes another drabble, this one is from Remus Lupin's point of view though. It's his thoughts on the fact that all his childhood friends are now dead because of the war, and he reflects on the fact that Harry is his only link to the now. It's sort of fluffy and sweet, so if that sickens you, I'm sorry. Go get a barf bag or something. (Thank you again, Rocky235, for your reviews!)**

**The Last Link**

It actually hasn't been that long, but war ages people. It's inevitable, because war isn't something that goes to plan. It doesn't always work out the way you want, and always…always someone you love will not make it through to the end. I was young and optimistic at the beginning of the first war, as were Sirius, James, Lily and Peter.

Then came the deaths, so many of them, and so young. Promising witches and wizards that would have made such a difference to our culture and society lost to the fight against Voldemort's ideology and power. Gideon and Fabian Prewett, along with Dorcas Meadows. Those three come into mind in addition to my friends.

And it wasn't like there was much time in between the deaths and imprisonments. First, James and Lily are brutally murdered, and only several hours later, Peter 'confronts' Sirius, Peter supposedly died as a result of the confrontation, and Sirius is thrown into Azkaban. All within a period of only a day or so, my world was turned upside down and ripped to pieces.

The truth came out only two years ago; thanks to the last person I have left to remind me of those days before the war. Harry has been through so much; too much for a kid his age. He's much older and mature than James was at that age, and had they been able to meet each other when James was 15 and Harry was 15, I know that James would have thought Harry to brooding and serious.

Though it's not like he doesn't have a right to be that way, Harry has experienced things that, at the time James was 15, he could only imagine in his worst nightmares. Things, in fact, that he probably couldn't imagine in his worse nightmares, and James would have cried if he knew all that Harry had been through.

Now…now that Sirius is gone, I'm all Harry has left, and he's all that I have left. No one else knew James and Lily so personally, and Harry's relatives certainly don't give him the love and respect that he so deserves.

He's going to need an adult that he can trust, someone that isn't a parental figure in his life really; someone he doesn't have to worry about talking to, someone who he can ask advice from without wondering if he'll be 'mothered' to death. Molly is a great person for Harry in his life, but she smothers him to much sometimes. She treats him like a sheltered little child, and Harry is anything but those things.

Sirius used to be that person in Harry's life, and though I would have loved to be that person to Harry as well, it was more appropriate for Sirius as he was Harry's godfather. After the incident at the Ministry, Harry's going to lay blame for not learning Occlumency properly. First, he'll blame himself, and then he'll turn the blame on Severus.

Dumbledore realized his mistake, and I highly doubt he'll try hiding information from Harry again. It lead to such a large disaster that it wouldn't be in his best interest to try something of that nature again.

And now, the second war is here. I'm prepared for this one; at least, as prepared as one can be for something like that. Harry is going to need guidance for the first part of it, but I think he's going to be surprised in the end, by how much he can accomplish. I have complete confidence in his abilities, and I will do whatever I can to get him to the place he needs to be to defeat Lord Voldemort.


	8. The Truth Shall Set Them Free

**The Truth Shall Set Them Free**

**Author Note: I know it's been a while since I did one of these, but this scene has been bugging me for the past couple of days, and I figured I might as well write it down before it drove me completely insane. Its (my version, obviously) of the scene where Harry confesses the contents of the Prophecy to Ron and Hermione. Oh, the drama! (Thank you to Maegmel, Mio Granger, and Rocky 235 for reviewing!)**

The haze of the dreamless sleep potion was wearing off, and Harry felt a strange sensation running up and down his body. It tingled; as if all of his limbs had fallen asleep. Everything felt leaden and extremely hard to move, and considering the situation, he wasn't quite sure if he wanted out of this potion induced stupor.

Memories were coming back to him in brief flashes and spurts, like a broken movie projector running on a loop and faded around the edges. Sounds from the memory came delayed and sounded far off, as if he was listening from another room.

"_Get down, would you!" Ron shouted desperately to Ginny, pulling her down just in time to miss a well aimed Cruciatus Curse. Neville scrambled and darted around various tables and chairs that had been overturned earlier in the fight. He ducked behind a bookshelf and yelped in surprise when the entire thing burst into flames._

_Harry was watching the scene from his well positioned place on an outcropping of a window that was well above all the bookshelves. Hermione was hunkered down behind him and hissing in his ear, _

"_We can't stay here, we have no cover! They're bound to see us sooner or later!" Harry agreed and the both of them, with much trepidation, jumped down to the top of the nearest shelf, dislodging several large old books in the process._

_They ran quickly along the top of the shelf and jumped again, landing on top of the table that Ron and Ginny were under. The entire time they had been using chairs for cover and shooting curses and hexes from behind them. A well aimed cutting hex from Ginny had permanently blinded Lucius Malfoy. _

It faded again and Harry tried to home in on what was making him feel so awful. Why couldn't he remember properly? Slowly but surely it came back to him, and with a sickening jolt he realized why he felt such a tightness of dread in his chest. The scene played out before him as if he was there again.

"_Leave! Get out!" Lupin yelled as the Order stormed in and took over the fight. Harry was throwing curses, hexes, and jinxes over his should left and right and he scrambled to get to the exit. Ron and Neville were the first out of the room, and they held up and incapacitated Luna, who'd been hit early on in the fight. Harry ducked a stray curse or two and one (presumably a disarming spell) came so close that it singed his hair._

_He was almost to the exit when an earth-shattering shriek filled the air, freezing Harry in his tracks. He knew that scream: it was Hermione. _

_"GINNY!" There was a loud crash followed by a loud rushing noise. Harry spun around just in time to see Lucius Malfoy's Killing Curse (which he'd cast on the off chance it would actually hit one of them) strike Ginny in the chest. _

_Hermione rushed toward her, and slid to the ground as Ginny fell with a strange grace. She caught her before she hit the ground. Harry stood there, knowing that they needed to get out fast. Tonks came rushing towards them. _

_She lifted Ginny up in her arms and grabbed at Harry's sleeve. "Let's go!" Hermione, tears rolling down her cheeks, followed Harry and Tonks out of the room as fast as they could…Ron's screams could be heard echoing off the walls of the large breezeway…_

Ginny's dead. Harry trembled before slowly opening his eyes, still not quite believing what he knew to be true. Hermione and Ron's faces came into view, staring at him with mixed emotions. Harry heard a god awful moan come from somewhere, and it took him several seconds to realize he was the one making the noise.

"It's a nightmare, right?" He choked out, and the look on Ron's face said very much otherwise. Tears were on the surface, and it obviously taking all of his best friend's self control to hold them back. He wasn't that successful.

Hermione trembled and then threw her arms around Harry. She sobbed desperately into his chest, shoulders shaking in grief. Ron gazed at her absently, as if he wasn't really seeing her.

"After you went down….seeing Ginny right before that…I thought….my god, Harry! I thought you were lost…" Hermione's speech was broken and squeaking as she hiccupped from all the tears.

Harry patted her on the head as soothingly as he could manage and murmured reassurances. He wasn't quite sure what to make of all this, until he looked at Ron's face. He was looking at Harry with an oddly shrewd expression.

"Why?" He hissed softly. Hermione jerked up and wiped her tears away; sniffling all the while. She looked at Ron questioningly, but he never looked away from Harry. He sat up in the bed and gazed back at Ron.

"What do you mean, _why?_" Hermione wondered desperately, but Ron held up his hand to silence her. Harry knew exactly what Ron wanted to know.

"Hermione, he wants to know why Voldemort keeps coming after me in the first place. He wants to know what type of reason he has for continuing to come after me, and why he finds it necessary to kill people that are close to me. One of those people was his sister." As Harry spoke he never looked away from Ron's eyes, making sure to keep him in his sights.

Hermione's sharp intake of breath didn't distract Ron in the slightest, he simply nodded his confirmation. Indeed, that was exactly what he wanted to know. For what cause did his little sister die so unfairly?

"It all has to do with the contents of the prophecy." Harry told Ron heavily. They both looked at him with a question in their eyes, but also with obvious curiosity. Hermione was hesitant despite this.

"I thought…but the prophecy was destroyed in the Department of Mysteries last year, wasn't it?" Hermione wondered, gazing at Harry intently. He scoffed in response and replied, deadpan.

"Really Hermione, I would think a smart witch like you could figure out that they keep more than just one record of a prophecy, especially one as important as the one made about me and Voldemort." Harry slumped over and held his head in his hands sadly.

The awkwardness soon passed and he pulled his glasses off distractedly, before rubbing his eyes and folding the glasses neatly in his lap. He turned and looked at the blurred figures of his friends; he felt so heavy all of the sudden, it was almost unbearable.

"I…I'm sorry, Hermione, for using that tone of voice. It's just; this prophecy is highly top secret. I'm the only person besides Dumbledore and Voldemort who know any of it at all." He put his glasses back on to gage their reactions. Ron was listening intently, looking more curious than anything else. Hermione's eyes were filled with concern and sympathy.

Harry tilted his head back and continued, looking up at the arches in the ceiling of the hospital wing.

"Actually…Voldemort only knows part of the prophecy, not all of it. That's why he planted the false vision in my head last year. He wanted me to get the prophecy so he could learn its contents." He turned and looked back at them once again.

Ron, looking utterly baffled, replied, "Well why didn't he go get it for himself if he wanted it so badly, then? Why'd you have to do it for him?" Harry gazed absently at his hands as he replied,

"The only way anyone could touch those prophecies on the shelf is if they were made specifically about you, too you or you were the one making the prophecy. Professor Trelawney made the prophecy to Dumbledore almost 17 years ago when he was interviewing her for the position of Divination teacher. She doesn't even recall making it."

A look dawned on Hermione's face and she nodded absently, muttering something under her breath about staying hidden. Ron still looked confused, so she explained it to him.

"Voldemort had the perfect cover. Fudge refused to believe that he'd returned to power, so as long as Voldemort stayed low key, Fudge could keep on convincing the public that Harry and Dumbledore were nutters. He'd blow that cover if he tried to go and get the prophecy himself, which is why he needed Harry to do it."

"Ah, right then." Ron nodded and looked at Harry expectantly, waiting for him continue with his explanation. Harry did just that.

"Well, in the middle of the prophecy, one of Voldemort's spies was caught listening into the conversation and kicked out. They were in the Hog's Head, by the way, so that's why Voldemort only knew part of the prophecy." Hermione moved to sit closer to Harry, as if to comfort him. He smiled uncertainly, and with a sigh, continued – he never took his eyes off of Ron.

"I memorized the prophecy word for word, and you have to promise never to repeat it aloud in your life. If Voldemort ever found out…" Harry let his sentence die off and both of his friends glanced at each other before turning their attention back to Harry.

"I swear I'll never mention it aloud. I'll never speak it." Hermione said firmly, looking to Ron to say something similar. He nodded and said, "I would never give it away, Harry. You can trust me." Harry leaned back against his pillows and recited the prophecy in an indifferent sounding voice.

"Here goes nothing, I guess. The prophecy was this: _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches, born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies….and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have the power that the Dark Lord knows not…and either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives…..the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches, born as the seventh month dies_…."

Harry's voice faded out as he continued to try and discern his friends' reactions. Hermione trembled as she listened, and let out a gasp as he recited the last two lines. Ron sat there, looking at Harry as though he was seeing him for who he was for the very first time.

"You mean…you have some kind of power he doesn't know about, and that's supposed to kill him?" Ron sounded very nervous and quivery when he spoke, and Harry nodded. He lifted his hair and pointed at his scar.

"He's already marked me as his equal, so now all that's left is finding out what this power is, and then one of will have to die by killing the other. It's murder, or be murdered. I never had a choice in the matter." Harry said grimly, and Ron pressed his lips together and sat back in his chair.

"You've known this since the end of last year? That's why you seemed even more distant that expected all this year?" Ron wondered quietly and Harry simply nodded. Hermione threw herself at him once again, in a bone crushing hug.

"Oh Harry... if I'd have known! You should have told us sooner, we could have tried to help you with this!" Harry gazed at Ron as Hermione cried into his chest.

"If my sister had to die, I'm glad that at least she died for something worthwhile." Ron choked out. Harry reached out and patted him on the back. It would take a while for them to get over the shock of Ginny's death, but Harry was glad that such a burden was off his chest. For the first time in almost three years, he finally felt free. At least, for now.


	9. Weasley The King

**Author's Note: Okay this is from Luna's point of view and, if you can't tell by the title, it's her thoughts on our favorite redhead, Ron Weasley. I know she's portrayed in the series as being rather…shall I call it unfocused? Well I think Luna's a lot more perceptive than people give her credit for, so here it is. Yes, I'm sorry. This is slightly sappy and has some romantic thoughts, and if you can't take a little romance, then you'll probably lead a lonely life. **

**Weasley the King**

I've known him for a long time; longer than his friend's Harry and Hermione have. Ever since I was a toddler, my mother and father would schedule little playtimes with me and Ginny Weasley. After all, we were the same age and we live in the same town. The only other girl near to our age that was a witch in Ottery St. Catchpole was Susan Bones.

Either I would be at her house, or she would be at mine. Then my mother died when I was nine, and we drifted apart. I didn't go around the Weasley's house as often as I used to, and Ginny began to tag along with her older brothers more and more.

We talked even less once we both got to Hogwarts, mainly because we ended up in different houses, and only had one or two classes with each other. There wasn't much of a chance to talk.

Strange though, because when the both of us reached 3rd year, we started talking again, which was nice. I'd missed her quite a bit, considering most of the girls in my house that were my age thought I was out of it. They liked to talk about boys and makeup, and frankly, this stuff didn't quite interest me as much as it did them.

All throughout when I was little, though, when I was at the Weasley's, Ronald was always there. He tried to hang around his brothers, but they ignored him, or excluded him. He ended up spending more the usual amount of time with me and Ginny, and I didn't really mind. Of course, I was little back then and the more playmates I had, the better.

Ronald was always protective over Ginny, and although she didn't need protecting (she always did a wonderful job of taking care of herself) I thought that very sweet. He even extended that protection to me whenever some muggle kids had made fun of me.

I wasn't mad when he found his own friends once at Hogwarts, but his behavior did seem a tad strange. He acted as if he didn't remember me that well! Maybe he didn't, but I'm willing to look past that.

It started when I was around 11 years old. Ronald has always been attractive in that 'lost little puppy' sort of way. I've heard rumors that several people think he has a thing for Hermione, which I highly doubt. He certainly doesn't act like someone with a crush, when I recall his behavior with Fleur.

I have a feeling that Ginny suspects that I like her brother. She doesn't seem to mind, because she's told me more than once that Ron sees Hermione as a miniature version of his mother. This doesn't surprise me.

Ronald needs some guidance in relationships, that's for sure. He'll realize soon enough that I'm the one that wants to give that guidance.


	10. Thicker Than Water

**Author's Note: Are you sick of them yet? I hope not, but anyway here is yet another drabble thingy for your reading pleasure. This one is from our favorite Slytherin's point of view, Draco Malfoy. **

**Thicker Than Water**

Our family legacy depends on my loyalty to the Dark Lord. Submit to the whims and rule of another. Normally, I would rebel against this type of thing, but I know what would happen if I didn't. I would be disowned from the Malfoy family, and I can't afford that. It's in conflict with what I've been taught, when you think about it.

My mother made it a point to teach me to be my own person, and never to follow someone that I couldn't completely put my trust in. The Dark Lord can't even kill Harry Potter, after numerous times of trying. How the hell am I supposed to be loyal to this so-called, "Dark Lord" if he can't even manage to properly murder a teenage boy?

It's hard to see your father following this man's doctrines, when in fact your father has always prided himself as being the person people usually followed. Do I sense a little hypocrisy? Well, father will make exceptions to these attitudes if he gains money and power, but blood isn't always thicker than water.

To tell you the truth, I'm not sure where my loyalties lie. I respect my family, its history and legacy, and the responsibilities that come along with all of it. Being a Malfoy is more than just parading around and being rich. However, trying to gain power by giving up my dignity and following someone else doesn't exactly appeal to me. Not in the slightest.

Power and money can be gained through other methods, and I would prefer to not associate the Malfoy name with people who can't accomplish even the simplest of tasks. Always having to prove your loyalty to the Dark Lord ( my father tells me he requires this reassurance every time they meet) makes me wonder if maybe the Dark Lord himself isn't exactly sure of himself.

This is something to important to not be sure about. I don't like to gamble on the emotional mood swings of an insane snake-man who has to force people to kiss his robes to feel comforted in their loyalty. Perhaps this means, I will be turning to the side of the light? Definitely not.

It's all about power and money, is it not? What better way to get both of those things by playing along with both sides of the war? Draco Malfoy, Death Eater-in-training; or so they think, but in reality I have much bigger plans than they could imagine. Why gain money and recognition from one, when you can have it from both? After all, a Slytherin must always keep watch for a better way to get what you want, right?


	11. Power the Dark Lord Knows Not

**Author's Note: Okay, this is more of an essay rather than a drabble, alternate scene, or a brief selection on a certain character's thoughts. It's on the "power the dark lord knows not" that Harry is supposed to have to use on Lord Voldemort. Thanks to Rocky 235, Maegmel, and Mio Granger who reviewed! Blows them all a kiss It's much appreciated!**

As soon as the prophecy was revealed to readers in the Harry Potter fandom, speculation ran rampant. Theories, essays, and columns on prominent Harry Potter fan sites have devoted plenty of time to trying to figure out the mystery of this power, and so far most people seem to agree that it has to be something involving love. The sacrifice Lily made to save her son is usually somehow involved in most of these theories.

However, this doesn't quite bode well in my stomach. First of all, 'the power of love' is so cliche that I highly doubt JK Rowling would use it as a plot device. There are so many things, in my opinion, that's wrong with this explanation, and a lot of the reasons don't have anything to do with it 'feeling bad' in my stomach.

Pg. 841, Order of the Phoenix

'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…born to those who have thrice defined him, born as the seventh month dies…and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have the power the Dark Lord knows not…and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives…'

Dumbledore, several pages later, describes this power to Harry in this manner.

Pg. 843-844, Order of the Phoenix

'There is a room in the Department of Mysteries that is kept locked at all times. It contains a force that is at once more wonderful and more terrible than death, than human intelligence, than forces of nature. It is also, perhaps, the most mysterious of the many subjects for study that reside there.'

'It is the power held within that room that you possess in such quantities and which Voldemort has not at all. That power took you to save Sirius tonight. That power also saved you from possession by Voldemort, because he could not bear to reside in a body so full of the force he detests. In the end, it mattered not that you could not close your mind. It was your heart that saved you.'

Alright then, thanks for clearing that up Dumbledore. Now, I know that it seems safe and easy to assume that this power is love. It's a predictable and feasible answer as well, however, that is part of the reason why I think this power is something else. JK Rowling is a brilliant writer, obviously, which is why her books have done so well in the market. Her story doesn't contain the typical Herculean god hero with the perfect blonde hair, shiny teeth, and dazzling blue eyes. (No, she gave us Lockhart for that!)

Which of course, leads one to believe that our favorite author, in fact, detests this kind of hero enough to make a likeness of one in the form of an easily detestable (not to mention shallow) villain in one of the books. Harry is the underdog in the story, which is why we all like him so much, because he's not perfect. He's not Mr. Suave with the girls he happens to like. ("Wannagobawime?" – Harry's way of asking Cho to the ball in the fourth book. Oh yeah. Really smooth.)

I'm slightly digressing, but case in point: JK Rowling loves to lead us around, chasing things that, in the end, have zero importance. (Anyone remember Mark Evans?) She's not the type of author to be obvious. Why on earth would she spend five books, and over 1000 pages building up to a moment when the secret is finally revealed, only to have one of the most intriguing parts of that secrets be easily apparent to even the most rudimentary of readers?

It doesn't add up to her pattern of writing thus far, because otherwise she wouldn't be getting so much pleasure out of screwing around with the heads of all the shippers in the Harry Potter fandom by being vague enough to give everyone a little grain of a hint that might lead somewhere. She's good at giving 'non-answers' to all the important questions and she wouldn't avoid answering them if they weren't important to theending.

So what is a reader to do with this information? Well, since this argument alone isn't nearly enough to disprove the "Power of Love" theory, there must be other evidence, correct? Well of course there is! I wouldn't base my beliefs on one theory!

Pg. 652, Goblet of Fire

"Voldemort raised one of his long white fingers and put it very close to Harry's cheek. 'His mother left upon him the traces of her sacrifice…This is old magic, I should have remembered it, I was foolish to overlook it…but no matter. I can touch him now."…. "I miscalculated, my friends, I admit it. My curse was deflected by the woman's foolish sacrifice, and it rebounded upon myself."

Clearly, Voldemort knew before hand that he needed Harry's blood to resurrect himself a body. He says as much to Wormtail several pages previous, and although Voldemort could have gotten any witch or wizard to supply him with blood, he specifically wanted Harry's. Why? Because then, as he says, he would have the protection of the sacrifice as well. He'd be able to touch Harry without having a physically painful reaction to it.

So, if Voldemort knew that he needed Harry's blood so the protection could extend to him, this would imply that Voldemort was informed of the power behind the sacrifice in the first place. Now, if you go back to the wording of the prophecy, it clearly states… "the power the dark lord knows not."

So, if Harry is supposed to have the "Power of Love" to vanquish Voldemort, and Voldemort isn't supposed to know about it, wouldn't that imply that the whole deal with Lily is completely irrelevant now? Voldemort clearly knew plenty about the sacrifice, and the power that it gave Harry. Now, Harry doesn't have that power anymore, Voldemort cancelled it out when he used Harry's blood to resurrect himself….how could it possibly be the 'power that he knows not,' if he knows what it is?

The idea that love can defeat Voldemort is not an original one, and plenty of other novels have played around with the idea that 'love conquers all'. The point is, is that the prophecy doesn't mention anyone else being involved with this power. It only speaks of Harry, and Harry alone.

**"...and he will have the power that the Dark Lord knows not..." **There's no mention of anyone else besides Harry or the Dark Lord in the prophecy.

This is also the problem: Harry has to go back to Privet drive every summer to 'renew' this protection, so Dumbledore says. Implying that after awhile, it doesn't work anymore. Otherwise, why should it have to be renewed? Once Harry becomes of age, he won't have anything, legally, to keep him from leaving the Dursley's permanently, anyway.

So, assuming that Harry is going to be at least 17 or 18 when he has the 'final' battle with Voldemort, wouldn't this so called 'love protection' that Lily left him be null in void, because legally the Dursley's don't have to keep him anymore? The sacrifice Lily made was to protect her child, and clearly, when someone reaches a certain age, they aren't a child anymore.

Okay then, so he would have to get this love (if this was the power) from another source.

It could come from almost anyone, because many people love Harry. How would a sacrifice out of love give Harry power?

Plus, we already know that Lily's sacrifice didn't really work in the long run, did it? If it had, then Voldemort wouldn't have been able to be reborn in the first place. Voldemort still existed in the form of a spirit, and inhabited the bodies of animals until he found Quirrell in the Albanian forests. This proves that the 'sacrifice out of love' theory didn't work the first time (completely) and so it most likely won't work again.

Voldemort is intelligent enough, after all he went through, to take precautions against any 'old magic' involving a sacrifice of some sort. Especially considering how close something like that brought him to death, he most likely went and studied it to make sure nothing of that nature would ever be tried, semi-successfully or otherwise, ever again.

If by some chance this does happen (someone dies for Harry) where would the power come from? His anger at their death? He would perhaps be enraged to the point where he felt like revenging that person's death.

However, as Bellatrix explicitly told Harry in the Department of Mysteries, you need to truly enjoy watching someone be in pain to use the Cruciatus Curse effectively. Self-righteous anger doesn't cut it, and I'm betting the same goes for any kind of unforgivable curse.

Harry's anger at someone's death wouldn't be enough to fuel a spell like that enough to be effective. Not to mention that if it's someone Harry truly cared for that did this for him, he would most likely be in no condition to fight Voldemort, much less completely destroy him.

Also one problem with revenge: it goes against what JK Rowling's been saying in the series all along, and that's that people deserve a second chance. Dumbledore gave Professor Snape a second chance as well as many others, namely: Lupin, Hagrid, and Mundungus Fletcher.

He looked past their shadowy pasts and pervaded stereotypes and gave them a chance. Dumbledore isn't powerful because he loves he's powerful because he forgives. He has a heart.

Perhaps Harry will give Voldemort a second chance to redeem himself ? Maybe…maybe it's possible that the force contained within that room in the Department of Mysteries isn't love. Maybe it's forgiveness.


	12. The Face Behind the Face

**Author Note: This is a drabble that I've been wanting to do for a while now. It may surprise you at first, because the point of view of the character I'm writing about doesn't come across at all as the way I will portray her. I never thought of this character this way, until a discussion in a Yahoo Group opened my mind to a very different perspective. So, thank you to Tracy and KateJones from HLHR for giving me the inspiration to write this about Mrs. Molly Weasley.**

**The Face Behind The Face **

Where did I go wrong? How could two children turn out so different from their siblings? Bill and Charlie were great in school; the both of them earned 10 O.W.L.s a piece…and Percy…well, he's not part of this confusion.

Fred and George are so irresponsible! First they spend all their time making these ridiculous pranks to sell to those poor little boys and girls at Hogwarts, then they don't even earn but a handful of O.W.Ls a piece; how do they expect to make it successfully in the world without a proper education? This idiotic idea of theirs…Weasley's Wizard Wheezes…it won't last long because they have no idea how to run a business!

At least now I have the comfort of knowing that they aren't getting their funding from questionable means, like Mundungus Fletcher and his illegal cauldrons. He's such a bad influence on them, and I don't care what Dumbledore thinks! There are better people to get information from, and I say we should leave Dung alone to his own devices.

However, just because their source of funding is legal doesn't mean I have to like it. I can't believe Harry wasted his Triwizard's earnings on those two childish pranksters! What was he thinking? There's nothing to be done about it now, though, because Fred and George have already spent and invested a good chunk of that money.

At least Ron isn't heading down the path of those two. I'm so proud of him becoming prefect, I knew he would make it! He's a hard working young man and Dumbledore could obviously see that when he came to choose prefects the previous year. And becoming a member of the Quidditch team too, him and Ginny both! Granted, the only reason Ginny got a position was because Harry was banned by the horrible Umbridge woman, but none the less, she did a very good job indeed!

I think I underestimated Ron, after all these years. Of course, it would do to help his career and image a little if he didn't hang around…certain…people so much. Harry can't help his fame, but that doesn't really matter, because he's from a good family. Not the Granger's are bad people, but…they don't know the ways of the Wizarding world.

Sometimes I wonder…how did Hermione Granger beat my son in all of her grades? She's doing better than even Percy did! It's not right, my sons spent their whole lives surrounded by magic, and they can't even compete with her! I wonder if Ronnie's hormones are getting in the way….

No, no of course not. He doesn't like Hermione in that way, he's said so himself when I was listening in on a conversation between him and Ginny! I know I shouldn't spy on my own children, but sometimes it's the only way to make sure that they're keeping their noses out of trouble. I remember, I was putting away the linens in the hall closet when I heard Ginny ask him.

"Ron! Look, I know you'll probably tell me to bug off, but I really need to know. Do you like Hermione? As a girlfriend type of like?" Mrs. Weasley smiled when she remembered the choking sound Ron had made before yelling indignantly,

"WHAT THE HELL? Whatever gave you a stupid idea like that! She's on my case about homework all the time, it'd be like marrying and extreme version of mum!"

Of course, she'd been hurt that he wouldn't want to marry a strong woman such as herself, but it gave her comfort in knowing that he didn't like his friend in that manner. Surely Ron could find a nice pureblooded girl who is just as good as Hermione….

But…then again, Ron was more like his father in that way. He was particularly fascinated with muggles like Arthur, thank heavens, but he wasn't as worried about his future as she'd like.

Oh! But now she was on the subject of muggles! Hateful people, especially those Dursely's that Harry had to stay with all summer! If Arthur was more ambitious and didn't have such an odd fascination with muggles, then he'd have been promoted a long time ago! Molly wasn't stupid, she knew that Cornelius Fudge, the minister, thought Arthur was a little touched in the head because of his obsession.

If it wasn't for that damnable obsession, she would be like all the other pureblood families now. Rich, powerful, and respected! That's the world she expected to be in once she'd married him in the first place. It was a 'good match' her father had told her. He'd been proud that his only daughter had captured the heart of a Weasley, a well and good standing family among the purebloods then.

She'd been expecting a whirlwind life like the one she'd been leading already! She was born a Prewett, and they were among the best purebloods as well! She'd been to debutante balls, and had a coming out party of her own. Low and behold, she marries a good man and what does she get? A ramshackle house that barely stands in the middle of nowhere, with no rich parties and friends to shop with – she was dirt poor, she was.

It was smarty-pants people like Granger that took promotions away from her husband that kept them in this situation in the first place! Not to mention that DAMN OBSESSION WITH MUGGLES! If only Arthur could have been more assertive with his wants, then she'd be living as high as she once did when growing up.


	13. The Yule Brawl

**Author Note: Okay, this is a drabble that I was inspired to write after a thread I had been reading over at the Portkey, a popular Harry/Hermione hangout for those of us shippers who are tired of being ripped apart simply because we do not follow the popular opinion among the younger shippers. huffs Anyway, I won't get into that. I decided to write the scene of the argument between Ron and Hermione after the Yule Ball, only this is before Harry enters the common room. Interesting, yes? The talized text at the endis written verbatim from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, 1st United States Hardback Edition.**

**The Yule Brawl**

Ron entered the common room, still angry and seething over the night's events. Hermione was sitting in one of the armchairs in front of the fire, glaring into its warm glow. As soon as Ron came stalking into the common room, Hermione jumped up off the chair and said,

"What right do you have, making claims like that about Viktor? You don't know him personally!" Ron angrily punched the arm of a nearby sofa before responding with a snarl,

"I don't have to know him personally to know that he's looking for inside information on how to complete the tournament! He's from Durmstrang, and in case you forgot, Malfoy had plenty of nice things to say about it!" Hermione's eyes narrowed dangerously, and she stalked closer to bring her face next to Ron's.

"How dare you! You are such a HYPOCRITE!" She was shaking with uncontrollable rage as she glared at Ron, who was lost as to what Hermione was speaking about.

"What do you mean, I'm a hypocrite? I'm not getting friendly with a potential Death Eater!" Hermione gasped in shock and slapped Ron firmly on the cheek with a resounding CRACK! He stumbled back in disbelief and then shouted,

"What the BLOODY HELL was that for?" Hermione's neat hair was starting to get messy as she struggled to contain her anger and her face was quickly turning red. She balled up her fists and through clenched teeth said,

"You want to know why you're such a hypocrite? The idea of a guy finding me attractive; that being so inconceivable to you isn't what bothers me the most." She was shaking once again, and her voice was continually becoming louder as she spoke.

"It's okay for you to follow Fleur Delacour around like a lost puppy, admiring her and even asking her to the ball, but I can't spend time with Viktor? What about Fleur? Isn't she Harry's ENEMY too?" She was positively rolling now.

"She's competing in the tournament against Harry as well. You can fraternize and even **want** the enemy, but I CAN'T? Do you know what a double standard is Ron, or is that to complex for your tiny teenage boy mind?"

Ron's mouth opened in shock; he was at a loss as to what to say to that. He registered the fact that she'd called his brain tiny, though, and retorted,

"I don't like it, that's not the same thing! Fleur isn't from Durmstrang and you know it!" Ron was turning red as well, wishing with all his might that he could punch something, and Hermione was driving him to the brink of something he'd never done before; hit a girl.

Fortunately for Ron, Harry chose that moment to come into the common room. Seeing the two of them going at it, he froze, watching them with wide eyes.

"_Well if you don't like it, you know what the solution is don't you?" yelled Hermione; her hair was coming down out of its elegant bun now, and her face was screwed up in anger._

"_Oh yeah," Ron yelled back. "What's that?"_

"_Next time there's a ball, ask me before someone else does, and not as a last resort!" Ron mouthed soundlessly like a goldfish out of water as Hermione turned on her heel and stormed up the girls' staircase to bed. Ron turned to look at Harry._

"_Well," he sputtered, looking thunderstruck, "well – that just proves – completely missed the point – "_

_Harry didn't say anything. He liked being back on speaking terms with Ron too much to speak his mind right now – but he somehow thought that Hermione had gotten the point much better than Ron had._


	14. Oh My Gosh! It's Harry Potter Part 1

**Author's Note: Okay, this is definitely not your typical drabble and/or alternate scene. This is a short, three part parody that I'm writing. You know all those Mary Sue stories? She's usually really powerful, and really smart and really beautiful? AKA: Little Miss Perfect? I'm sick of Mary Sue. This is a story about what would happen (in my demented world) if my two Harry Potter obsessed friends Michelle and Heather (and me of course) all came across the world of Harry Potter in real life. All three of us are Mary Sue, yay! Only, we aren't all Little Miss Perfects. By the way, I'm Lauren. So when you see that name, it's me talking. Yes. I'm that odd in real life; sorry if that offends you in some way. On with the show….**

The sun slowly started to set on the bland and redundant houses of Little Winging in Surrey. It was hot and humid; the people of Privet Drive had taken to opening their windows as much as possible, and people made sure to walk around with a handkerchief to wipe off the sweat that seemed to gather over everyone.

One boy in particular was having a particularly bad time, though. Harry Potter, also frequently known as The Boy Who Lived, was busy watching his aunt and uncle's television set from between the wooden columns on the upstairs landing.

They'd finally conceded to letting him watch the news, just so long as he wasn't actually in the room with them when he did it. He could hear their conversation quite well though, and they didn't seem to bother lowering their voices for fear of Harry's hurt feelings.

"I don't know why his sort wants to watch the news. That what's-his-face that killed his parents isn't going to do anything that would get him noticed by good and normal people like us." Uncle Vernon sounded rather high and mighty considering all that happened the summer before, Harry thought. Petunia just sniffed and agreed with him. Harry rolled his eyes and focused back on the news to see what was happening.

So far, the Daily Prophet had been reporting daily alerts of "Dark Wizard Activity" and a daily column was put in, written by the Order's own Nymphadora Tonks. She wrote about different places were Death Eater activity had been seen last, and so far, she hadn't given away anything that Harry couldn't have guessed by himself. The newspaper itself seemed to focus on safety and cautionary tactics rather than actually reporting any incidences.

Perhaps they were afraid of scaring everyone? Harry wondered idly to himself as he thought on it. So far, though, nothing to odd had appeared on the news. Although…there had been some odd sort of lights hovering above the city in the past couple of days, and scientists had been making a big deal about it on the news. It was the Aurora Borealis and what was even more amazing was that it was visible over London, even through all the light pollution, or so they called it.

Harry had gone out and looked at it through his collapsible telescope, figuring that since it was such a rare event, his Astronomy professor may want some kind of essay about it. Of course, that was assuming that he passed his Astronomy O.W.L. and actually got into the NEWT level class. He figured that either way, it couldn't hurt to take a look.

It was out again tonight, and brighter than it ever had been. It was the main topic of discussion on the news that evening, as it had been for the past week or so. Vernon snorted into his cup of tea and muttered darkly from the living room, "Some sort of trick of the light it is. Nothing more than that, I don't know what all the fuss is about!" Petunia said nothing, but Harry heard the clinking noises of knitting needles.

Harry figured if their had been any mass murders, they would have been the first things on the news report. He stayed and listened for another couple of minutes just to make sure, but when they turned to the daily news, the only serious event had been a large car accident on the motorway to the south of Little Winging.

Harry got up and stretched, raising his arms above his head and yawning before shuffling toward his tiny bedroom. He walked in, only to find that his bedroom window was wide open and the strange light of the Aurora Borealis lighting up his room. He stood there, looking at if for a long time. He wasn't quite sure at first, but suddenly he could hear a group of people talking.

He couldn't exactly tell what the people were saying, but it sounded as if they were down in the street somewhere. He could tell that there were at least three of them, and all were girls. At least…two of them were, he wasn't sure about the last one. A young boy, maybe?

He walked over to the window and looked down into the street and saw three shadowy figures talking with one another in irritated tones of voice, and there was no doubt that all three of them were girls. He thought about going down and peaking through the living room window to see who they were, when one of them suddenly looked up at him and squeaked loudly, before covering her face and muttering to herself.

Knitting his eyebrows together in confusion, he looked over at the other two girls and decided to call down to them. "Hey! Who're you?" He hissed as loudly as possible, and the girl who previously had her face covered removed her hands and exclaimed.

"Oh my gosh! It's Harry Potter!" Harry blinked, and became suspicious. How did this girl know his name? Was she some kind of rabid fan-girl who had found out where he lived? He contemplated sending an owl to Dumbledore, when a girl with shoulder length brown hair and brown eyes with glasses stepped into view of the light in front of his house. She looked like a sensible person, with a pair of simple jeans and a red t-shirt.

"Hey, I'm Michelle. Don't worry, we aren't enemies or anything. Umm…just one thing though, this is real, right? I'm not dreaming all of this?" She bit her lip and looked up at him hopefully and Harry shook his head, "I feel very real right now, and I don't think I'm a dream," he replied. Michelle nodded and glanced back at her friends.

The girl that had been previously covering her face removed her hands and Harry noticed that she was also wearing glasses, only her eyes were blue. She reminded him of Luna Lovegood in a way, only less dotty.

Her eyes were what did it, and they were the only similarity she had to the Luna. Otherwise she was very tall, with very short brown hair. She was wearing a baggy pair of khaki pants with a lot of pockets in them, and a t-shirt with an odd cartoon character on it that Harry hadn't seen before. The third girl had been pacing back and forth and Harry hadn't seen her in the light yet.

"Hey, why don't you guys come here in the light then?" Harry hissed and Michelle nodded, beckoning her two friends closer. The girl who had covered her face stepped forward and looked up at him. Harry suddenly noticed that she had freckles, like Ron.

"Uhhh…Hi. I'm Heather." She said, and her cheeks turned flaming red with embarrassment. She glared suddenly at her feet and seemed indignant with herself over something. Harry was about to ask her what was wrong, when Michelle addressed the third girl.

"Lauren! C'mon!" The third girl stopped pacing and stood in the shadow for a second before stepping forward and peering up at him suspiciously. Harry blinked, she had blonde hair and green eyes. She was fairly tall as well, though her hair was longer than that of the other two and she was wearing a baggy pear of jeans, converse shoes, and a t-shirt with the Superman logo on it.

"You aren't Harry Potter, are you? This is some kind of joke or something, right?" Lauren challenged of him, and he was surprised at the sound of her voice. It was rather deeper than he expected from a girl and it had an unnatural twang to it. Seeing his odd face, Heather laughed in amusement.

"Lauren's from Texas, that's why she talks that way!" Harry nodded hesitantly and told them he'd be down in a minute, and to wait right there. As soon as he exited the front door, he noticed that he was only a little bit taller than the tallest girl, but not by much. Lauren took it upon herself to take charge of the situation by bringing her face extraordinarily close to his.

"So. You're Harry Potter, huh? Damn. He's sexier in person." She grinned, showing off a row of oddly straight and white teeth that reminded him almost of Lockhart. Harry leaned back and confirmed her suspicion. "Yes, I really am Harry Potter. What do you mean, I'm sexier in person…" He was quite alarmed by this observation, and to him it seemed as if Heather was struggling not to giggle hysterically.

Michelle gave Lauren a strange look, and Lauren shrugged in response. Heather suddenly made another squeak noise, and Harry jumped at the sound of it. Lauren grinned widely at Heather, who shook her head emphatically.

"NO! I won't squeak, you can't make me do it, Lauren! STOP!" Heather exclaimed, and Lauren threw her head back and laughed loudly. Her laugh reminded him of Hagrid in way: larger than life was a good way to describe it. Lauren suddenly started bouncing in place and circling Harry as she performed some odd dance moves. Confused, Harry watched her and asked them,

"Okay, so what the heck are you guys doing here? And who are you?" Michelle reached out and stopped Lauren's odd bouncing and dancing before saying, "Umm well, we're from the States and we have no idea how we got here. We were just looking at the lights in the sky when…" She trailed off and glanced up at the Aurora Borealis.

"OH! We were transported here on the Northern Lights, of course!" Lauren told them all knowledgably, as if this happened to her quite often. Heather glanced at her quizzically and wondered, "Oh really? Then make it take us back home! I have to talk to Daniel anyway…"

Lauren froze and suddenly spun to look at Harry closely. Harry jerked away from her for the second time, and she suddenly burst out, "Hell, they look nothing alike. Ah well…they're both hot in their own way. HEY! Do you have a nice ass? Lemme see!" She grabbed his shoulders and turned him around. Confused, Harry craned his neck around to see what she as doing. Much to his alarm she was inspecting his rear end.

"Hey, guys, Harry's got a nice butt! Go you, you dead sexy monster you!" She exclaimed, giving him a swat on the butt playfully. Harry yelped in alarm and Michelle hissed quickly to Lauren in mortification,

"You can't go around spanking important people, Lauren! No matter how much you like their butts, I can't believe I'm even having this conversation with you…" Michelle ran her fingers through her hair and glanced up and down the street. Harry held onto his butt, and looked at Lauren apprehensively, who grinned back at him.

Heather watched the scenario, and seemed to be containing her laughter really well, before turning serious. "Okay, guys really…we need to find a way to get home, and since Lauren's smart ass seems to know how, she's going to do it." Heather looked at Lauren expectantly, who shrugged.

"How the hell should I know? Do I look like the Goddess herself to you?" Confused, Harry asked Lauren who the Goddess herself was. She smiled and replied,

"Well, who ever said God had to be a guy? I don't want to think of God as a guy, because frankly, that scares me. So God is now a she. Booya! You want some of this? Didn't think so!" She shook her butt at him and Harry found himself laughing at her. It was hard not too. Heather brightened considerably, quite suddenly.

"I knew Lauren could get him to laugh!" Michelle grinned and Heather leaned forward and hissed to Harry,

"Lauren's really weird and she loves making people laugh, so excuse her behavior. She can be normal when she wants…."

"I'M GOING TO KICK DUDLEY'S FAT ASS!" Lauren roared enthusiastically, causing some of the neighbors to peek out their windows at the group of teenagers angrily. Harry waved his hands at Lauren and told her to shut up. Michelle made a noise and she and Heather clamped their hands on Lauren's mouth at the same time.

They stood there like that for a while, until they let go about a minute later. Harry sighed with relief that Dudley was over at Piers' house that evening. He glared at Lauren and hissed, "What are you, nuts?"

"Yes." All three girls answered in unison and Harry groaned loudly. "Come upstairs to my room," Harry said, "and we'll find a way to send you home. Permanently!" Harry walked back into the house, relieved that now his aunt and uncle were in the kitchen talking.

By some miracle, the group of teenagers made it up to Harry's room without alerting his relatives and Harry slumped onto his bed in relief. All three girls took an instant curiosity to his things, and began to look at them before Harry could think to hide them.

"Hey, next year you'll be able to do spells without getting expelled from Hogwarts, huh?" Heather asked and started flipping curiously through his Transfiguration textbook. He stared at her open mouthed. How did they know about Hogwarts? What else did they know?

Seeing his surprise, Lauren informed him of something rather important, "Oh don't worry, we know all about you. You're The Boy Who Lived, though I'm sure you hate being called that because it's just some sort of title that refers to something you barely remember…that must completely suck!" Harry sat there, listening to Lauren open-mouthed and when she suddenly stopped talking, he struggled to process all that she'd said.

"Umm yeah, that about covers it I suppose…" Harry replied, glancing back over at Heather who'd found his Defense Against the Dark Arts text book from the previous year. She was frowning at it.

"I hate Umbridge. She's a pig." Heather declared, tossing the book back onto his desk. Harry grinned. "No…no, no, no her name isn't Umbridge anymore, remember? It's Umbitch." Lauren said firmly and Harry burst out laughing. That was a pretty good name after all….

Harry gazed at Michelle, who was frowning at Lauren in disapproval. Harry stood up suddenly, glancing out of the window at the Aurora Borealis. It was starting to fade away. If Lauren was right, and they did manage to get here because of the Aurora, then he wouldn't be able to get them home that night if it was fading off already.

"Lauren! I want you to tell me if you know for sure how you got here. Please." Harry demanded, making sure that she was paying attention to him. She blinked and Heather muttered from behind him, "Oh, it sounds cool when he says your name, Lauren." She grinned at him, and Harry tilted his head up and sighed loudly. He yelped in surprise when he suddenly felt someone tickling his neck.

He glared at Lauren, figuring she'd done it, and he was correct. Michelle was giggling, but struggling to stop, and Heather wasn't bothering to stop. Harry grabbed Lauren's hands and told her firmly,

"Keep your hands right here. Don't move them, or else I'll have to curse you or something." Lauren nodded, with a suddenly innocent look on her face, which made Harry suspicious. Who the hell did she remind him of…?

"She's an awful lot like Fred and George, isn't she?" Michelle observed and Harry nodded, "Only, more…um…well I don't know what to call it…" Harry let go of Lauren's hands and she sat there like an obedient child, not saying a thing and smiling angelically, which was highly unnerving to him.

Harry began to pace, trying to think of what on earth could have gotten them there using the Aurora Borealis. He had learned some about it in Astronomy, but not all that much to figure out if it could magically transport people halfway across the world. He went digging for his astronomy textbook, to try and look something up, when he heard Heather ask Lauren for a pencil.

She must have given one to her, because a bit later, he heard scratching noises that sounded like someone drawing. He found the book and started flipping through it, trying to find any and all information on the Aurora. He glanced up to see Heather studying his face avidly. He frowned, and looked over at Michelle and Lauren, who just sat there calmly.

"What're you doing?" He wondered, looking at Heather hesitantly. She blinked and smiled uncertainly. She held up a notebook that he only just now noticed she'd been carrying. She showed him the beginnings of a sketch of what he figured must be him. He was a little surprised, and asked her, "What else do you draw?"

She flipped to some other pages and showed him what looked like several cartoon characters that she'd drawn in various situations. She was really good! Harry flipped through some of the drawings curiously, asking Heather what they were.

"Well, this one is InuYasha; he's a Japanese anime character. Those are his friends Miroku and Shippou…" Harry thought those to be funny names, but they were Japanese names, so he wasn't used to them or anything.

"Look, I can't find anything in my astronomy book about the Aurora Borealis, or any of it's magical properties. The most I could get is what causes it, but other than that, I can't begin to figure it out…" Harry told all of them, and they looked at him, listening carefully. Michelle nodded and seemed to be trying to figure something out for herself, and Heather flipped back to her drawing of him and started on it once again.

Lauren turned and looked out at the last parts of the Aurora Borealis that hadn't faded yet, and then looked at Harry carefully. He folded his arms across his chest at looked at her expectantly. He could tell she wanted to say something, but was holding herself back.

"Well? Say it!" Harry told her, and Lauren shifted around anxiously before saying, "Well, okay I know how to get back, but we won't be able to until tomorrow evening. The lights aren't strong enough to support the journey back…" She smiled apprehensively at him, and Harry frowned.

"Where do you expect to sleep until then?" He demanded and Lauren smiled angelically at him once again. Harry had a suspicious feeling that she was going to say…

"Well, we can sleep here of course. On the floor, that is. Unless Michelle and Heather can come up with a better idea…" She glanced at her friends, and Heather shrugged indifferently, and Michelle shook her head.

"We aren't married; we can't sleep in the same room as a teenage boy! There's no telling what kinds of…of….sexual things he might think!" Her face turned as red as her shirt and Harry's eyes bugged out. He opened his mouth to respond, but Lauren jumped up and put a hand on his arm.

"Harry's not…like that! He wouldn't be some perverted…you know!" Lauren replied firmly, and Harry gazed back at her in surprise. Well, it's nice to know that a complete stranger has faith in you, Harry thought. He nodded in agreement and told Michelle firmly, "I won't do anything…perverted, and if I think it, I'll make sure to keep it to myself." Michelle frowned a little bit, and after some convincing, conceded to stay and sleep on the floor.

"Do you have a sleeping bag?" Heather wondered, putting her sketchbook away and giving Lauren her pencil back. Harry had to go digging around to find one, but Dudley's old sleeping bag was large enough to fit the three of them quite comfortably.

"Okay, who goes in first?" Heather wondered and they all looked at the sleeping bag on the floor. Harry went to the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth and hair while they figured out the sleeping arrangements. He managed to sneak several large pillows out of the linen closet in the hallway on his way back, and when he entered his room, found the three girls arguing in hushed tones.

"Why should the skinniest go first? Whose the skinniest out of us anyway?" Heather demanded of Lauren, who shrugged and looked from herself to Michelle and then back at Heather, who grimaced.

"Well, you don't need a rocket scientist to figure out that I'm not going in first. Thanks for making me feel so much better about myself, Lauren!" Heather folded her arms in front of her chest and Lauren gaped back at her. She seemed to be trying to find a way to apologize, but she didn't seem to be able to do it.

"Oh brother, it's just a size issue! You're taller than everyone else, Heather, so you go in first." Michelle said firmly. Heather sighed and sat down on the floor first. Harry shuffled around them, and tossed Lauren the pillows. She almost toppled over in the process of trying to catch them, making Heather laugh.

Lauren pouted and then laughed too. Heather took off her shoes and left her socks on. She wriggled around and got herself into the sleeping bag easily enough. She adjusted the pillows that Lauren set on the floor and she unzipped the sleeping bag further.

"I'm next!" Lauren said, with a laugh at Michelle, who shook her head in amusement. Lauren took of her shoes as well as her socks. Harry noticed that she had painted her toenails an odd turquoise color. She flopped down and wiggled in next to Heather. Before lying down, though, she started digging around in her pocket for something. Harry was on his bed and under his covers, watching everything from the sidelines. It was quite funny to him.

She dug out a black hair band from her pocket and pulled her long blonde hair up into an odd, messy looking hair-do on top of her head, before laying down and grinning over at Harry, who chuckled to himself. Michelle decided she need to use the bathroom before she went to bed, and tiptoed over.

Heather, Lauren, and Harry laid there silently, until Lauren suddenly announced that she was hungry. "Oh no," Heather muttered, and Harry sat up. He had some food stored away underneath the loose floorboard, and he grabbed a couple of Cauldron Cakes out from under there and threw them at Lauren.

She ripped the packages open and contentedly ate them. Michelle came back from the bathroom, informed Lauren that if she got crumbs in the sleeping bag she'd smack her, and then took off her shoes before sliding herself into the sleeping bag.

Lauren divided the cakes up and gave Michelle and Heather a piece, to which they fell silent and contentedly ate along with her. Harry rolled his eyes and tried not to laugh at the three of them. He couldn't sleep, so when he was sure they were done, he turned off the lamp and asked them how old they were. He could still see them in the dim evening light enough to register their reactions.

"I'm 18," Heather and Michelle said in unison whispers, and Lauren said, "I'm 19, I'll be 20 in October," Harry jerked in surprise and sat up to look at them with the light coming through the window.

"You're almost 20 years old? You certainly don't act like someone that age!" Harry exclaimed, thinking of Percy Weasley. Lauren rolled his eyes and told him, "I don't care what other people think of me, and I'm not going to take life to seriously." She stuck her tongue out at Harry, who blinked in surprise, before laughing once again.

They all settled down and started to sleep. Harry rolled over and let his mind drift off into nowhere before falling asleep quite rapidly. That didn't keep the nightmares of Sirius falling through the veil away, though, and he tossed around, mumbling angrily in his sleep.

He woke up suddenly in the middle of the night, looking around wildly and in a cold sweat. Did those girls know about his nightmares too? He sat up and put on his glasses, glancing down at the three girls.

They all looked to be fast asleep. Heather was turned away from him on her side, with her hair sticking up in a funny direction, much like his own hair. Lauren was on her stomach with her face turned toward him and a peaceful look on her face. She looked a lot different when she was sleeping, Harry thought. Michelle was on her side facing Harry as well, with her hands curled up underneath her pillow, she looked rather different without her glasses.

Harry sighed as he looked at the three of them. Michelle reminded him of Hermione in a way. She was serious and seemed very intelligent. Then again, Heather and Lauren seemed smart too, but less serious about it. Heather wasn't really like anyone he'd ever met before, but he could tell that she would get along well with Ron for some reason. So would Lauren.

In fact, he knew that if Ron ever saw Lauren he'd probably go nuts and follow her around. She was pretty enough for him to not worry about her nose, which wasn't off center. Assuming, of course, that Lauren let Ron follow her around…

Michelle and Hermione would be great friends, he could tell. Hermione might think Lauren a bit to loud and outspoken, but he wasn't sure. She'd like Heather though, who seemed a bit shy. He tried to get back to sleep, but was unsuccessful.

_What have I gotten myself into?_ Harry wondered as he took one last look at them before rolling over and going to sleep once again.


End file.
